


six feet under the stars.

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [16]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Relationship Negotiation, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3826204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t want this to be our last night.”</p><p>Written for the prompt, "things you said under the stars and in the grass."</p>
            </blockquote>





	six feet under the stars.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SkippyMcVy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkippyMcVy/gifts).



> this was written for my lovely girlfriend, who gave me the prompt "6. things you said under the stars and in the grass" and, me being who I am, I turned it into a Dean & Cas high school au. I hope you lovely readers enjoy!
> 
> title from the song of the same name by [All Time Low.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cDg5xhyS3js)

“What are we going to do after tomorrow?” 

“Huh?” Dean answers, snapping out of the trance-like state he’s been in for the last few minutes. He doesn’t zone out very often but it’s kind of hard not to, considering his surroundings. They’re twenty minutes outside of town, parked down a road that leads to a dilapidated hunting camp that hasn’t been used in years. The sky above is speckled with stars and lit up by a nearly-full moon. There’s a breeze periodically sweeping through the trees, flooding the air with the smell of lake water and grass. Faint music drifts from the direction of the Impala, the only sound coming from any direction, with the exception of Castiel’s voice.

“What are we going to do after tomorrow?” he repeats. They’re both lying down, a ratty blanket from the backseat of the Impala between them and the grass. Cas has his head on Dean’s stomach; every time he shifts, his dark, mussed-up hair tickles the gap between Dean’s jeans and shirt. The trench coat he usually wears like a security blanket is crumbled up beside his head and his tee and jeans are both ratty, streaked with paint. There’s a tiny rip in the threadbare fabric stretched over his broad shoulders and Dean gently tugs at it. He brushes over warm skin pulled taut over bone but before he can explore any further, Castiel sighs and sits up, running one hand through his perpetually messy hair. 

“ _Dean._ ” Usually, Dean loves how his name sounds coming out of Castiel’s mouth but now, it makes him feel like there’s a stone sitting heavy in his gut. 

“Why do we have to talk about it?” he asks, barely managing to keep himself from yelling. 

“Because it’s important to me,” Cas says, mouth twisting into a frown. “ _You’re_ important to me, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean sighs. He bites back a curse, curls his fingers into the blanket beside him as he crosses his legs. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, especially not here, surrounded by nothing but trees and the light from the moon. He has spent weeks trying to forget that Castiel is leaving, that he’ll be moving three hours away for college. He’s become quite adept at dancing around the topic, switching focus to something else whenever it came up. But now, Cas has him backed into a corner that he can’t get out of, not unless he wants to take off for the Impala and leave his boyfriend sitting on a blanket in the middle of the woods. 

There are many things Dean would do (and has done) to avoid thinking about Castiel leaving, but simply abandoning him isn’t an option. 

“I don’t want this to be our last night.” Cas moves so that he’s hovering on his knees in front of Dean, hands held out in front of him like he isn’t sure what to do with them. He licks his lips once, brushing over skin that’s been gnawed ragged over the last few weeks. Dean knows the feeling; there’s been days where his mouth suddenly filled with blood, spewing from his cracked lips. 

“I-” Dean doesn’t get another syllable out; one look from Cas is enough to make him stop in his tracks. His hands finally drop, landing just above Dean’s knees and he leans forward, almost close enough to rest his forehead against Dean’s. 

“But I also want you to be happy,” he continues, fingers twisting into the loose denim of Dean’s jeans. “Three hours is a long time. If you don’t want to-”

“Three hours is fucking nothing,” Dean interrupts. He closes the space between them, bumping their noses together as he palms the back of Castiel’s head. “It’s _nothing_ , Cas. Hell, bet you I can make it there in two hours.”

“Only if you want another speeding ticket,” Cas says. His voice is still low and sober, but Dean can see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. That’s enough to make Dean smile as well, sighing as he rests his free hand on Castiel’s hip. 

"If I get enough of them, we can have a bonfire,” he replies. That gets Castiel’s grin to completely appear and Dean has never been more grateful for the sight. He tightens his fingers in Cas’ hair and tilts his head, pressing his mouth to the corner of Castiel’s lips. Before he can pull away, Cas slides into his lap, knees pressed against either side of his waist, and deepens the kiss, digging his fingers into Dean’s shoulders. His tongue brushes along Dean’s bottom lip, followed by his blunt teeth, nipping gently before he dives back in. Cas has always kissed like he’s afraid it’ll be their last time, like it’s all or nothing, and this is definitely no exception. Usually, Dean can give as good as he gets but tonight, it’s only a few moments before he has to pull back, face warm and flushed, lungs aching for breath. 

“This ain’t our last night,” Dean says, dragging his hand down Castiel’s back and underneath the tattered hem of his shirt. “Not by a long shot.” 

“Good,” Cas says, long fingers popping open the buttons on Dean’s flannel. “Because there’s still a lot of things that I want us to do together.” 

“Yeah? Like what?” 

“You’ll see. Later,” Cas murmurs, reaching for the hem of Dean’s t-shirt just as Dean shrugs his flannel off. In the seconds before Castiel pushes Dean down onto his back and starts kissing him again, a number of thoughts race through Dean’s head, quick flashes of things he still wants to do with Cas, things he _will_ do with Cas, even if he has to make the three hour trip every goddamn weekend. Things like going to movies or the museums Cas is so obsessed with, things like making out in a dorm room the size of a fucking closet and going on actual dates to restaurants fancier than the shitty diner on Lawrence’s main street. He wants to do all of that, wants nothing more. 

But for now, all of that can take a step back, because while Dean is pretty sure that Cas has all sorts of ideas for their future, his eyes are promising far more wicked things. They’re things Dean is already extremely familiar with, but there’s definitely no harm in experiencing them again. 

It's a beautiful warm night, there's not a cloud in the sky and Castiel doesn’t have to be back at his house until six in the morning. Dean plans on making use of every minute of that time.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
